Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

I don’t use that word since I remember how he responded last time I did, but that thought
flickering through my mind dulls some of my appreciation for this extravagant evening he organized
and makes it easier to finish succinctly. “But after tonight, we’re finished—just like we agreed. No
negotiation, no extension. Just finished. That’s it. The end.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you, Hallie?”
“I do,” I say a touch stubbornly.
Pulling a disappointed face, he says, “Pity. I thought you were more intelligent than that.”
My eyes narrow at the insult. “I’m not sure what’s more intelligent than avoiding spending time
alone with a rapist, actually.”
His eyebrows rise at my use of that word, but he doesn’t dispute it.
Instead, he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, making himself
comfortable. “Let me explain something to you, sweetheart.”
Oh boy, here we go.
“I’m rich.”
I thought he might come out with some new threat, but I can scarcely keep the disdain off my face
when that’s his argument for letting him have his way. “Congratulations.”
“No, that wasn’t the end of the story. I was also born very comfortable—not rich, exactly, but I
wanted for no material things growing up. We had a nice house in a nice neighborhood, I got a brandnew
car the day I turned 16. I went to private school and when I graduated, I had a bloated college
fund waiting to pay my way through the best school I could get into.”
“It sounds like you’ve had a dreadfully hard life,” I say flatly. “I can see why you turned out the
way you did.”
He shakes his head. “Still not finished. Now, my mom did society wife things—social
engagements and fundraising benefits—but she didn’t have a dime of her own money. When she took
my dad home to her parents and told them she was marrying him, they forbade her right there in front
of him. They told her if she left with him that night, she was no longer their daughter. She did, and they
disowned her. She hasn’t seen them since.”
My eyes widen. “Wow. That seems… harsh.”
“It was, but they knew what she didn’t—my dad was a fucking prick and he would treat her like
shit for the rest of her life. I assume they either couldn’t watch it, or they wrongfully imagined if they
literally stopped speaking to her, she would come to her senses and not marry him. That didn’t
happen. My mom is a sweet, gentle woman and she was only 20-years-old. My father started
controlling her the moment they met and never stopped. She didn’t know any other way.”
“That’s… terrible,” I murmur.